


Music to my ears

by Qwerty1



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU - Music, Angst, F/M, First Meeting, Fluff, au - disabilities, strangers to firends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-02 03:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qwerty1/pseuds/Qwerty1
Summary: Blessed with an amazing singing voice but cursed with a life in complete darkness, Rose Tyler has never had the curage to take the chance to follow her dream to preform in front of a live audience. John Smith, an amateur vocal pedagogue working under the alias “the Doctor” spots her at a karaoke bar, and makes it his personal mission to help her in her journey to make that dream come true.





	1. Chapter 1

[](http://sv.tinypic.com?ref=zo7sj5)

1\. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 

Rose Tyler silently counts the amount of steps from the living room to the front door. There aren’t many, since the flat is pretty small. There’s no need for her to use her cane indoors, but now she grabs it from where it’s always leaning against the wall. She’ll need it tonight. 

While normal teenagers spend their friday nights watching netflix and/or making out with each other, Rose and Jackie spends their friday nights at the karaoke bar a few streets away. That’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it’s probably always going to be. Music was one of the things that helped Jackie out of her depression after her husband died, and Rose… Well, Rose loves to sing. More than anything, actually. Her blindness doesn’t exactly add things to the list of potentially enjoyable activities for her, so it was sort of obvious that Jackie would allow her at least one night a week of doing what she loves. 

Cane in one hand and her mum’s arm in the other, Rose slowly and carefully starts making her way down the stairs. She’s already beaming, looking forward to a perfect night of singing and dancing. Okay, maybe not so much dancing. But a lot of singing. 

It’s gonna be a great time. 

 

John Smith has absolutely no idea what he is doing here. 

Or, that isn’t completely true. He knows why he is here: His sister had planned this night at the karaoke bar with her friends for weeks, but said friends decided to ditch her a few days ago. Being the big brother with responsibility and all that, John agreed to go with her instead of those so-called-friends. He just doesn’t know why he agreed in the first place. 

There’s honestly so many things he could be doing right now: drinking a nice cup of tea, catching up on some shows on Netflix, or even check his Facebook page for entries. Still being an amateur at what he does, Facebook is his only way to reach out to actual customers. At least, his sister keeps reminding himself he’s just an amateur. John does not like to think of himself as one. Especially not after his little cousin won her school’s talent show as a result of his knowledge and all the tools he gave her. 

Now he just needs to make the rest of all the potential superstars aware of his expertise. Which isn’t going as well as he’d hoped. 

Standing by the wall with his hands shoved into his pockets, John has managed to filter out his sister’s so-called-singing (he’s looked into it, but her voice seems to be an impossible case). Instead he’s got his eyes on a blonde who just entered the bar a few minutes ago. A pretty blonde, actually. Now she’s sitting at one of the tables, with a woman who’s probably her caretaker or something. Or her mother. It didn’t take much for John to work out that the pretty blonde is also blind: the white cane, the dark glasses and the way the woman guided her over to the chair. No chance she’s gonna appreciate his good looks, then. Shame. 

“Did you see that? I naileeeed it!” Donna half-yells, making her way over to him after the song she’s been singing is over.  
“Yeah, I bet you did”, John says, forcing a nice smile despite not really listening.  
He’s got his attention somewhere else: the blind girl is standing up from the chair, and her mum/caretaker is helping her over to stand in front of the screen. The woman offers the girl the mic and she takes it, holding it tight with both her hands. 

John can’t help but pity her a little. It’s very obvious what’s happening: the girl loves to sing and just like any teenage girl, she dreams of becoming the next Beyonce. The mum/caretaker feels sorry for the disabled girl, and hasn’t told the girl she should probably give up her dreams. Instead, the mum/caretaker takes the girl to a karaoke bar, possibly hoping someone else will drop the bomb so she won’t have to live with the fact that she crushed a cripple’s dream. Tragic, really. 

Donna notices he’s not paying attention to her, cause she’s now poking his shoulder.  
“Oi, spaceman! Were you even watching?”  
“Of course I was, ginger. Your dance moves were very… Very impressive.”  
It’s all just silly nicknames, something that’s survived since they were little kids: John was always jealous of the redness of Donna’s hair, and Donna used to tease her older brother for his space themed bed sheets. It’s just one of those silly things siblings do. 

Donna says something else, but John can’t really register it. Cause the blind girl has started singing. 

 

Lifting the microphone to her mouth and inhaling a breath, Rose starts singing. The fact that she can’t see the lyrics displayed on the screen doesn’t concern her at all: “Firework” is by far the best song she’s ever heard, and if someone woke her up in the middle of the night and asked her to recite the lyrics she’s pretty sure she could do it. 

Like always when she’s singing, Rose gets all warm and goosebumps rises on her arms. All the background noises fades out from her brain, until there’s just the music and her voice. She finds herself tapping her foot to the rhythm of the music, almost like an automatic reaction. When she gets to the chores she raises her voice a little more, her lips curling up into a smile. 

Sometimes, when she’s in the middle of singing a really good song, it feels like she could conquer the world. 

Like always, the fun is over way too quickly. But, Rose knows she’ll need to make place for the next person who wants to sing. Jackie is beside her within a few seconds, giving her her cane and leading her away. She guides her to a chair, and Rose sits down, leaning her cane against a table leg. 

Having lived almost 20 years without seeing anything has its perks, believe it or not. When one sense is unable to provide the brain with useful information, the other senses kind of takes over. In other words, Rose has learned to recognize people from only the sound of their footsteps. The few people she hangs out with the most, at least. And she doesn’t recognize the footsteps that are now slowly approaching her. 

Rose is immediately alert, staying still and listening for signs that this unknown person might be aiming to hurt her. But that doesn’t seem to be the case. Instead, the person clears their throat. 

“Um, hi. I just wanted to say that I heard you sing, and I think you have an absolutely wonderful voice.”  
His accent is british, Rose notes. She’s heard that british boys are supposed to look really good, but she isn’t able to tell if that is the case with this guy. Obviously. Rose gives a shy smile in what she hopes is his direction. 

“Thanks. I’m Rose, by the way”, she introduces herself.  
“John. Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, you’re not a professional or anything, are you?”  
Rose shakes her head.  
“At singing? God, no! I just do it cause I love it, you know. But, still, it’s my biggest dream. Becoming a professional, I mean. What about you? Do you like singing?”  
John chuckles softly.  
“No, I’m just here cause my sister asked. Still, I think I might be able to help you with that dream of yours.”  
Rose makes a surprised, yet happy noise.  
“Yeah? How come? Do you have contacts?”  
“Not exactly. I… Well, I’m a bit of a singing therapist.”  
“You mean a vocal pedagogue?” she questions.  
“I guess, but I prefer singing therapist. Anyways, I like helping people. You can think about it, yeah?”

And then Rose feels something being thrust into her hand. It’s a small plastic card. She closes her fingers around it.  
“What is it?” she asks.  
“It’s my business card. Well, sort of.”  
“What does it say?”  
“Just my name, alias and some contact information. I gotta go now, but I’m sure you can ask your caretaker to read it to you.”  
“You have an alias?” Rose asks, amused.  
Her question is, however, drowned by Jackie’s sudden exclamation of:  
“Caretaker!? I’m her mother!”

Rose can’t help but giggle a little. She realizes her mum must’ve been there to hear the entire conversation.  
“I think he means you look young, so you should probably take it as a compliment”, she says, jokingly.  
“Oi! Are you saying I look old?” Jackie laughs.  
“How should I know?”  
The comment was supposed to be comical, but instead of laughter there’s only silence from Jackie. Rose might have reached the level of acceptance where she’s able to make actual jokes about her disability, but it still seems to make her mum uncomfortable. Rose will never understand why.

John clears his throat, awkwardly.  
“Anyway… like I said, gotta go. I’m free tomorrow, just so you know.”  
And then the footsteps are getting further away, which means he’s leaving.  
“I should probably tell you he just winked at you”, Jackie whispers.  
“Oh my god… Are you serious?”

 

“What did that wierdo give you?”  
“Mum”, Rose whines.  
She still fishes up the card from her jeans back pocket, holding it out in her palm. Jackie takes it from her hand, reading out loud:  
“The Doctor, because music is the best medicine. John Smith, singing therapist, 072947365, 13th Storey's Road.”  
“Well, he was right about the alias”, Rose ascertains.  
“The Doctor? What kind of name is that to call yourself?”  
“It’s just a name. And besides… We’ve got his address, and he said he was free tomorrow...”  
“Rose, no.”  
“Why not?”  
“You can’t just show up at a stranger’s house.”  
“He invited me! And besides, it’s not like I’m gonna be all alone.”  
“Yeah? So now you expect me to drive you?”  
“Well, it’s not like I can get there by myself.”  
“What about Martha?”  
“I told you, she’s at her cousin’s this weekend.”

Martha Jones is Rose’s best - and just about only - friend. Both their parents had put them in a kindergarten where the staff had special training to deal with disabled children. Basically Rose clung to her mum her entire first day there - not a suprising behavior coming from a blind kid - and little Martha got curious and went over to her. Jackie told Martha Rose couldn’t see anything and that was why she was so scared of everything, so Martha began describing everything she saw in hope it would calm poor Rose. It didn’t, but instead they both gained a friend for life. 

“Mum, this is my big chance! I mean, I could actually get somewhere with my dream! Please?”  
Jackie sighs. Her daughter has this way of getting everything she wants with a specific, pleading voice. This isn’t an exception.  
“Alright, I’ll drive you there tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

After lunch the next day, Rose finds herself outside 13th Storey’s Road.   
“Should I ring the doorbell or do you want to do it?” Jackie asks.  
“You can do it”, Rose decides.  
The sharp pling tells her her mum followed her request. Now she’s just gotta wait. Not very long, apparently. There’s a click, telling her the door in front of them is being unlocked.

“Yes?” a female voice asks.  
Rose opens her mouth to reply, but Jackie beats her to it:  
“Hi there, we’re looking for John Smith.”  
“Hold on a minute.”

 

“Spaceman! It’s your girlfriend from last night!”

John looks up from his book, not registering who’s Donna’s talking about at first. Then the memories comes back, and he remembers.  
“Rose!” he exclaims happily, getting up from the couch and bolting towards the door. 

The front door is already wide open. Rose is standing outside, her white cane in one hand and the other arm linked with her mum’s. She’s smiling, a smile that makes John’s heart feel all fuzzy. 

“Hello, Rose. It’s John.”  
He adds the last part after a quick thinking, since she can’t see him and know it’s him. But Rose simply nods.   
“I know. I recognize your voice”, she says softly.   
Her mum reaches her free hand towards John, who takes it and shakes it.   
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Jackie Tyler, Rose’s mum.”  
“Very nice to meet you, mrs Tyler.”  
“No no, call me Jackie.”  
“As you wish. You guys wanna come in? There’s some soda in the kitchen.”  
Jackie makes a move to guide her daughter inside, but Rose hesitates. 

“I’ll be fine, mum. You can go and wait in the car or something.”  
“I don’t think so sweetheart. It’s not like we know this man.”  
“Mum, he’s got a business card! And besides, we’re just gonna talk about stuff. It’s not like-”  
“Jackie, why don’t you wait in the living room? Rose and I will be in the studio in the basement, so you would still be close to her without being in her way.”  
Rose’s face lights up.   
“You’ve got a studio? Like, an actual recording studio?”  
“Well, not exactly...”  
“It still sounds great!” Rose decides, freeing her arm from her mum’s grip so John can take it instead.   
Jackie looks like she desperately wants to protest, but for some reason she doesn’t. 

 

“Carefully, there’s a staircase here.”

Rose follows John’s advice, dragging her cane forward across the floor until she locates the first step of the stairs that apparently leads down to his basement. She’s not a huge fan of stairs, mostly because walking in them requires so much concentration. An elevator is different, all you have to do in an elevator is stand and wait for the pling. Still, far from every building has an elevator, so walking up or down a staircase is a great training for her. That’s at least what her physical therapist says. 

“Sweetheart, remember: if he tries to rip your clothes of, bite him really hard and then run!” Jackie calls after them.  
There might be a hint of humor in her voice, but Rose has an uncomfortable feeling part of it is an actual warning. Rose kind of understands, honestly: it’s her daughter, and like she said, they barely know John. 

Still, Rose can’t let this chance pass. 

The staircase-walk went pretty well. Holding onto John’s arm gave her the support she needed to feel like she could walk without the risk of her falling being too high. The wall she has been leaning her hand against is suddenly gone, meaning the narrow stars is probably opening up into a larger room. rger room.

“Here we are: my basement studio!” John says from beside her, the pride in his voice very obvious.  
“Um...”, Rose hums, unsure of what to do next.  
John lets out a noise of someone who just remembered something obvious. Which he apparently did.  
“Shit, I forgot! Sorry. Eh… Do you want me to describe it to you?”  
“I’d like that”, Rose says softly.  
The insecurity in his voice is so cute it makes her smile. Now he’s clearing his throat, inhaling deeply like he’s about to hold a grand speech.

And then he starts describing the room they are now standing in. There’s two large speakers by the furthest wall. In the middle of the room is a microphone stand, obviously with a microphone on top. Next to the speakers there’s a laptop on a small, three legged table, and there’s a fluffy couch by the left wall. And that’s it. Not really what Rose expected when she heard the word “studio”. 

John clears his throat. Again. Probably to make sure he’s got her attention.  
“Alright, you can pick a song and I’ll play the instrumental version in the speakers. That way, I’ll get to hear your voice without all the background noises of the bar.”  
Rose nods. She holds out her arm, waiting for John to take it. He does, and he gently guides her forward. Her hands finds the mic stand after a bit of fumbling.   
“Hold my cane”, she requests, and when he does she grips the mic stand in both of her hands. 

“Alright, pick a song!” John says after a moment.   
Rose thinks about it.   
“Katy Perry’s “Firework”?”  
“Hold on, isn’t that the one you sung yesterday?”  
“It is. I love it so much!”  
“As you wish”, he replies, quoting himself from earlier. 

The intro to “Firework” starts playing. Rose inhales, and then she starts singing. To her suprise, she can actually hear her own voice over the music. The microphone must be connected to the speakers. Her first thought is that she doesn’t like it, but then she remembers when John said yesterday. He said he thought her voice was absolutely wonderful. So she sings even louder, lifting the mic from the stand. It’s not long before the adrenaline rush kicks in, and by the time the first choir has began she’s doing a little dance to the rhythm of the music. Dance for her being jumping up and doing and doing some occasional piruett. 

When John described the room to her, he had left out the cord that Rose’s foot now gets stuck in. She falls, her shriek echoing through the speakers before the mic hits the floor, and then the shierk is replaced by a deafening noise. There’s still music playing, but no one is singing to it. 

Cause Rose is on her stomach on the floor, shaking her leg in a series of failed attempts to free her foot from the cord. John comes to her assistance, pulling the small cord-loop off her ankle. She sits up, whines in pain, and immediately grabs her knee. 

“I’m gonna get some ice”, John decides out loud. 

 

“You’ll probably get a bruise, but that’s not so bad”, John says cheerfully.  
Rose forces a smile. The coldness of the icepack actually does her sore knee good. 

They are sitting on the couch by the wall, Rose’s head on John’s shoulder. Her jeans leg is pulled up above her knee and John is pressing a package of something frozen against the sore spot. 

“I’ve always wanted to perform in front of an actual audience. This was only for you, but it’s probably the closest I’m going to get. I guess I just got a little carried away. I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t apologize, Rose. These things happen.”  
“No, they don’t. That’s the thing. Not with anyone who can see, anyway.”  
“Don’t do this”, John requests softly.   
Rose shakes her head. 

“No, you don’t understand. Like I said, I’ve always wanted to sing on a stage, in front of an audience. But I can’t.”  
“Rose-”  
“It’s not like anyone’s gonna give a blind girl a gig, yeah? That’s my point.”  
John sighs. It’s a sad sigh.   
“Rose listen: with a voice as beautiful as yours, I’m sure you will get the chance.”  
“Thank you.”

 

“Call Martha”, Rose tells her voice-controlled phone.   
“Calling Martha”, the female, robotic voice of the phone confirms.   
Rose places her phone next to her on her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

“Hello?” Martha’s voice comes from the phone.   
“Martha, it’s Rose. How’s things at your cousin’s?”  
“Honestly? Not that great. Remember I told you they recently had another kid? Well, the kid threw up in the middle of dinner.”  
“Ew! Hey, there’s something I wanna tell you.”  
“Go on, then. You can’t have too much gossip!”  
“I’m not exactly sure this counts as gossip, but I met this dude yesterday who said he could with my singer dream. Today I went over to his place and kind of auditioned. He keeps telling me I have a beautiful voice.”  
You can hear the smile in Martha’s voice.

“Rose! This is great!”  
Rose is confused.   
“Really? You’re not scared he’s a creep or anything? My mum is.”  
“Mums are always gonna worry, that’s sort of their job description. If he feels like a good bloke, I think you should trust your gut.”  
“Really?”  
“Of course!”

That’s all the motivation Rose needs.


	3. Chapter 3

For the next few weeks, John and Rose see each other as often as the schedule of their lives allows. John’s taking a few classes at college, and since no one wants to trust Rose with a job she’ll have to survive on the disability benefit the government offers. It’s not much, but that’s probably because Rose is still living with her mum. She has thought about going back to school, but it never seems like such a good idea. Her grades were always below average, and going back just to fail all over again isn’t a very appealing thought. Some days she doesn’t even regret that she dropped out in the first place.

That might be the main reason Jackie allows her to keep seeing a guy who practically still a stranger: so she won’t just spend her days on the couch. Going out and being social is actually good for you, able-bodied or not. 

What started as a pedagogue/client thing has now escalated to a two people who enjoy each other’s company talking while drinking tea thing. Which is what John and Rose has been doing for their past few meetings. Which is why Rose is more than a little suprised when John suddenly brings up the topic of the pedagogue/client thing.

“You still wanna perform in front of an audience?” John asks as Rose sips her cup of tea.  
“Very much. Why are you asking?”  
“Because I think I might be able to help you with that.”  
“That’s what you said when we first met”, Rose teases.  
“Yeah, I know. But for real this time, yeah? It turns out a local theater owner has decided to hold a small amateur singing competition. It’s in a little less than a month, so there’ll be plenty of time to practise and get ready. What do you say?”

Rose takes another small sip of her tea. She hums, like she’s thinking.   
“John, I’m not sure. I mean, I want to, but-”  
“What, Rose?”  
“I- I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my nerves, but I just- What if they don’t like me?”

John is quiet for a minute. Then he takes her hand. Rose almost flinches from the contact at first, but she finds herself wanting more. Holding his hand tight.   
“Are you joking? They are gonna love you”, John assures her.   
She can’t do anything but smile. Something inside of her gets all fuzzy.

 

The elevator stops, plings, and then there’s the sound of the automatic doors opening. That’s one of things on the very long list of stuff Rose likes about Martha: she doesn’t need to take the stairs when she visits her, since there’s a very nice elevator in installed in the building. Makes sense, as there’s no way for Martha herself to take the stairs. 

This time, Rose rings the doorbell. She has let go of her mum’s arm, in order to be able to return the hug she will most likely receive once the door opens. She hears the door being unlocked and opened, and just like she expected a pair of arms wraps themselves around her waist. Fumbling a little in front of her, she returns the hug. The best she can, at least, with Martha’s head being the height of her waist. 

“Alright, you two have fun now. Call me when you wanna be picked up, sweetheart”, Jackie says.   
Since she works from home, she’s taken on the duty of her daughter’s personal driver. She doesn’t really like the idea of Rose taking a taxi by herself, being overprotective and all that. And it makes her feel more useful as a mother, which is a good thing. 

“Don’t worry Jackie, I’ll throw her out if she gets too annoying”, Martha promises with a laugh, drawing back from the hug.   
“Hey!” Rose laughs out, her voice filled with pretend-hurt as she gives Martha’s shoulder a playful slap. 

 

They go straight into Martha’s room, Rose sitting down on the bed and leaning her cane against the bedside table. 

“I need to tell you something”, she says, voice serious.   
“Oh, is it about the mysterious boy?” Martha asks, voice full of excitement.   
“No! Yes. Sort of… Apparently there’s this singing competition thing in a few weeks, and he thinks it would be a good idea for me to attend it.”  
“Don’t you think it would be a good idea?”  
“Not sure yet. I mean, it is a perfect opportunity for me to sing in front of people, on a stage, which is something I’ve always wanted.”  
“Then you should compete! I mean, you’ve got nothing to lose! Right? Rose?”

Rose sighs. It’s a long, deep sigh.   
“No, I guess not”, she says slowly.   
“Then it’s settled! I’ll help you pick out something to wear!”  
Another sigh from Rose.   
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, I really do. I know you want to help. I just need to think, you know.”  
“Then think about it”, Martha suggests, a smile in her voice. 

 

Martha’s mum knocks on the closed door, offering the two girls some soda. They happily accepts, Martha assisting Rose with pouring up a glass for her. That’s the sort of things Rose needs to practice doing, with Martha is perfectly aware of, but being the more independent of the two she feels like she’s got some sort of responsibility to help her friend as much and as often as she can. 

Once a long time ago, when the two girls were hanging out at a playground, some close-minded stranger decided to share the racist opinion the she didn’t the girls should play together. Rose had no idea what she was talking about. It never even occurred to her that Martha was of a different ethnicity. It’s not like Martha herself had ever mentioned it. 

When Martha’s parents dropped Rose off at her flat later that day, Rose asked Jackie what that old lady at the playground had meant. Jackie had only explained that Martha looks a little different than her, but at that young age Rose thought her mum was referring to the fact that her friend was in a wheelchair and she wasn’t. It wasn’t until a few years later she found out the truth about that mean comment. And to this very day, Rose can’t understand why some people just won’t mind their own business and let others be happy.

 

Rose can’t sleep. 

It’s not the sort of tossing-and-turning-sleepless, it’s the laying-awake-and-staring-at-the-ceiling-sleepless. But of course, Rose isn’t staring at the ceiling. She’s awake though, and very much so. 

It’s like there’s a thousand butterflies in her stomach, flaxing around in wild panic. In other words, pretty bad anxiety. Decision anxiety, to be exact. Which she shouldn’t have. It should all be very obvious. 

The obvious choice is to enter the singing competition. It’s not like she has anything to lost. At least, there’s more to gain than to lose. For example, she might lose the competition, but she will still have gained to experience of singing in front of an actual, cheering crowd. 

Yes, the right choice is very obvious.


	4. Chapter 4

"I’ll do it!” Rose announces happily as John closes the basement door behind them.   
He swirls around to look at her. It takes another minute before his brain has processed what she said, and he realizes what she’s talking about. Once he does his face lights up, and he wraps her in a careful little hug. 

“Rose, that is brilliant!”  
She smiles, returning the embrace.   
“Yeah. There’s one condition, though.”  
“Tell me!”  
She takes a deep breath.   
“I wanna write my own song!”  
John doesn’t reply right away. He just stands there, looking at her. Unsure. 

“John?” Rose asks, confused.   
“Yes, I… Are you sure?”  
“Sure? Of course I’m sure!”  
“Okay...”  
“Are you saying you don’t think I can write my own song!?” Rose yelps, suddenly defensive.   
“Of course not! I’m under the belief that anyone can accomplish anything, as long as they really put their mind to it.”  
The corners of Rose’s mouth curls up into a smile. She seems to like the thought of that.

“That’s a good belief”, she agrees, still smiling.   
John can’t help but smile as well. Her happiness just makes him happy, in some odd way.   
“It sure is. So, you’ve got any idea of you want the song to be about?”  
“In fact, yes!”

 

On their next meeting, Rose suprises John by bringing a guitar case. Unzipping it and opening the lid, she reveals an acoustic guitar in a beautiful, dark blue shade. John realizes he shouldn’t really be suprised if Rose is able to play the guitar, since suprising him seems to be one of her specialities. 

“This is TARDIS”, Rose announces proudly as she lifts the guitar into her lap.   
John is confused.   
“Hm?”  
“TARDIS. That’s what I call my guitar.”  
“You named your guitar?”  
“Yup! A bit silly, I know. There’s this show me and my mum used to watch when I was a kid, about a time traveling alien. There was a character on the show with the same name as me, which is a bit funny. Anyway, the time machine in the show was called TARDIS. Not long after I got the guitar my mum pointed out it has the same color as that time machine, so that was that.”

John shakes his head, suddenly remembering she can’t see him. He seems to forget that a lot.   
“Nah, it’s not silly. Actually, it’s a bit brilliant.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yes! And it’s also really pretty.”  
“Thank you. I originally wanted an electric guitar, but mum couldn’t afford one.”  
“That’s too bad. Still, this one is nice, too.”  
“It is”, Rose agrees, smiling. 

They continue where they left off the last time, working on the lyrics of the second verse. This time, Rose adds the guitar to the song. 

“I was the girl caught under your thumb, by my stars gonna shine brighter than your sun  
I will reach so high, shoot so far...” Rose sings softly, strumming on the guitar strings softly.   
“How was that?” she wonders.  
“That was brilliant!” John exclaims, adding the new lyrics in his little notebook.   
She beams, humming the melody of the lyrics, probably trying to figure out the next words in the song. 

John braces himself.   
“Can I ask you a personal question?”  
Rose’s attention is focused on him rather than on her guitar.   
“Yes, I have been blind all my life”, she informs him.   
“What…?”  
“It’s either that or how I brush my hair.”  
“That wasn’t… How do you brush your hair?”  
She smiles.   
“My mum usually helps me with that.”   
“Well, she’s sure done a good job at it. What I really wanted to ask is… It really seems like you’ve got something specific in mind for this song.”

Rose’s face falls. John immediately regrets his question. He’s about to apologize, but then Rose starts talking:  
“His name is Jimmy. We met my first year of high school. He was so sweet, so… So different from all my other classmates. I was young and innocent, and I thought so good of everyone. So, of course I fell for him. Hard. I really thought he cared about me, but it soon turned out I was all wrong. My friend basically made a fake online dating profile, to prove he wasn’t as wonderful as I wanted to believe. And, of course she was right: he tried to win her approval by… By… He... He used that fact that he was dating a blind girl as a way of getting love and respect from others. And… I… It...”

She is crying now, removing her black glasses to wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her leather jacket. This is the first time John sees her eyes: they aren’t white or even foggy gray, which is how he imagined a blind person’s eyes. The pupil is there, it just isn’t moving like the pupil of a seeing person does. It reminds him a bit of when you see an actor playing a dead person on TV, staring but not seeing anything. No matter how much John hates to admit it, it does creep him out a little. 

“Sorry”, Rose whimpers.   
“I’m gonna hug you, is that alright?” John asks, his voice full of insecurity.   
Rose nods. He moves closer, wrapping his arms around her. She immediately curls closer to him, her head somehow ending up on his chest. She sniffs, a few fresh tears making their way down her cheek. She inhales, like she’s about to say something, but that something is replaced by a sudden sob. Her body shakes with the rhythm of her ragged breaths. John has absolutely no idea what to do. All he really can do is hold her close, rubbing circles on her back. 

“He never even cared about me”, Rose says suddenly, her voice a weak whisper.   
John’s heart breaks. He’s not known Rose that long, only a few weeks, but in that short time he’s grown quite fond of her. And just the thought of someone wanting to use her for their own purposes like that… No wonder she gets this upset talking about it. No wonder she still isn’t over it. 

But, he can’t do anything else. He can’t magically take her pain away. So he just holds her as she sobs. The sound of her cries are absolutely heartbreaking. He finds himself pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. Rose looks up at him at that, the corners of her mouth lifting into a small smile.

“You’d think I would be over by now, you know. That all of that wouldn’t hurt. But the truth is, it does hurt. Still. When I think about it. When I think about him. And I… I don’t want it that way. Obviously. I thought that writing my feelings down in a song and sort of sing them out would help, you know. That it might give me a sense of closure. God, that sounded so cliché! It’s true, though.”   
“I think it makes absolute sense”, John assures her. 

She smiles, freeing herself from his embrace and placing her guitar back in her lap.   
“Shall we continue?”  
“Absolutely!” John agrees happily, grabbing the notebook from the floor, where it was carelessly thrown earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

When John guides Rose back up to the kitchen later that day, Jackie isn’t there like usual. Instead, there’s someone he’s never seen before. A dark skinned, black haired girl in about Rose’s age is sitting in a wheelchair by the kitchen table, an empty cup that probably used to contain tea on the table in front of her. Donna is sitting across from this mysterious girl, stirring her own tea with a spoon. 

“Rose!” the girl exclaims.   
Rose’s face lights up. She probably recognizes the voice.   
“Martha! Hi! What are you doing here…?”  
“You haven’t already forgotten, have you?” Martha asks, a teasing tone in her voice.   
“Oh! That is today!”  
“What’s today?” John asks, like he’s confused that he wasn’t informed.  
“Martha is taking me shopping for something to wear on the big day!”  
“The big d-? Right, the singing competition! Brilliant!”

Rose beams, holding her cane out in front of her so she won’t risk bumping into anything as she steps forward, towards Martha’s voice. Martha unlocks her chair’s breaks and turns so she’s facing Rose, reaching her arms out to sort of catch the blonde as she approaches. Rose laughs softly as Martha’s hands lands on her waist. 

The sight makes John smile. He has to ask. Just to be sure.   
“Is there any chance I could get to join you girls? I mean, a second opinion could be a useful thing to have.”  
Donna sighs, dramatically. John had almost forgotten she was even there.   
“Spaceman, don’t you think that sounded a little, I don’t know, weird?”  
John sudders.   
“I’ve told you not to call me that in front of girls”, he says sharply.   
His comment has both Rose and Martha laughing out loud. John smiles at that. Rose’s laugh is really lovely. 

When the laughing fit comes to a stop, Rose speaks.   
“That might actually be a good idea”, she says sweetly.   
Martha looks like she might wanna protest, but she just smiles agreeingly. Donna looks at the two girls in disbelief. 

 

Donna volunteers to drive the three of them to the mall, John in the passenger seat next to her and Rose and Martha in the backseat. The car radio is playing some punk rock song, and of course Rose can’t resist singing along. At first her voice is really quiet, but as the song goes on she gets the courage to sing louder. John smiles. 

“You know that song pretty well. You listen to rock?” he asks, sounding a little suprised.   
“Kind of, yeah. I guess that’s the kind of music I prefer.”  
“But “Firework” isn’t rock...”  
Rose giggles.  
“You’re very observant, you are. That one’s an exception, I guess. I just love the lyrics, you know. Despite it being this teenage-y pop. I did listen to a punk remake of it though, and it was awesome.”

Rose’s clothing style should’ve made her preference for punk music obvious: she’s currently wearing a simple white shirt with a black leather jacket over it, and dark, ripped jeans. The black glasses also adds to the look she seems to be trying to achieve. John silently wonders how someone blind can have such a specific fashion sense. 

The answer, it turns out, is Martha. 

Donna drops them off at the parking lot outside the mall. When Martha is back in her wheelchair, which has been in the luggage boot during the drive, she immediately takes the lead. Rose rests the hand that’s not holding her cane on the back of her friend’s chair, John following close behind the two girls. Martha has already picked out a store, and that’s where they are heading. 

“Alright, where should we start? Dress or shirt and pants? Maybe a skirt?”  
Rose thinks about it.   
“I think I want a dress. And tights”, she decides.   
Martha snaps her fingers as a non-verbal confirmation she got the message, wheeling over to a circular rack with dresses of different models and colors. 

John walks over to Rose, hands in his pockets like usually.   
“I can’t believe you can trust someone else with something as personal as what you wear. I mean, what if she tells you something is pretty but it’s actually really ugly?”  
Rose smiles, amused.   
“I highly doubt she would do that. And since I can’t do it by myself, I have to trust someone else with putting together my outfits. And that someone has to be Martha. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and she wants to be a famous fashion designer.”  
“How do you know she’s any good at it?”  
“Now you’re just teasing!” Rose laughs.   
“Yes, I am. You got me”, he confesses softly. 

Martha announces she’s found a few dresses, and John guides Rose over there so she can make her own opinion of them. The first dress has tiny, white stones all over it. Rose immediately decides against that one, explaining she wants something without extra decoration. The next two dresses both have fluff and bows, so they are also a no. 

The last dress is the only one that really interests Rose: a long thing with a red, black and white checkered pattern. The dress comes with a thin, black belt around the waist, keeping it pressed close to the wearer’s body. 

The belt turns out to be especially problematic when Rose tries the dress on. She slides her hands down the fabric until her fingers touches the belt, and she tugs at it while making a noise of discomfort. 

“Okay?” John asks.   
She shakes her head.   
“No, not really. It’s so tight around the waist. And I don’t really like the length. But the pattern seems really pretty.”  
“You could remove the belt”, Martha offers helpfully.   
“Maybe...”

 

They leave the store for now, Rose saying she wants to think about it. It’s gonna be her first ever performance in front of an audience, so she has to look absolutely awesome. After all, there’s only a few days left. 

There’s only a few days left. Those words repeats themselves like a mantra in Rose’s head. No, this doesn’t make any sense. Not so long ago it was several weeks left. Time can’t just vanish like that. Right?

 

“What’s that?”  
“What’s what?”  
“Rose, there a bruise all over your knee”, Jackie informs her. 

Rose dies a little inside. She never knew about that. John did tell her they might be a bruise, but she didn’t think more about it. 

“Rose, what happened?”  
Jackie’s voice is harsh and demanding.   
“I fell”, Rose confesses quietly.   
“When?”  
“A few weeks ago, when I first met John.”  
“Wh- Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jackie sounds angry. Really angry. Rose bites her bottom lip. She shouldn’t have told the truth, she should’ve made up some silly story about tripping over a sidewalk. Her mum’s always been very overprotective. She’s not gonna allow her to see John, now. 

And she’s not gonna be allowed to attend the singing competition. 

The anxiety kicks in with full force, mixed with general uncomfortableness. Rose stands up from the couch, breathing heavily. Her mum’s known for overreacting when it comes to anything concerning her health or safety. 

“Rose Marion Tyler, you get back here right now!”  
But Rose isn’t listening, already running through the hall. She somehow gets the front door open, leaving the flat. She doesn’t know where she’s going, doesn’t know what she’s going to do. 

Jackie hears an ear-shattering scream, and she hears the sound that can only be her daughter falling down the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

The soft, rhythmic beeping tells Rose she’s probably in the hospital. The beeping has the same rhythm as a heart, so it’s very likely there’s a heart monitor in the room. And heart monitor means hospital. 

Her right hand feels odd, so she runs her other hand down the skin of her arm to find out why. The air leaves her lungs as her fingers comes in contact with the rough, sticky band-aid. Yes, there’s a plastic tube sticking out from inside her hand. She suddenly feels like throwing up. 

She really is in the hospital, then. 

“Rose? Can you hear me? Oh my god, I’m so happy you are okay!”  
That’s Jackie’s voice. Frantic and panicking. The overprotective mother, as always. Rose opens her mouth, wanting to tell her mum she’s perfectly alright, but Jackie shushes her.   
“No, sweetheart. Don’t try to talk. Just rest. You fell down the stairs, remember? But, don’t worry, you’re in the ICU now.”

ICU? That means it’s pretty serious. Rose fell down another set of stairs when she was a kid, but that certainly didn’t put her in the ICU with a tube sticking out of her hand. But, then again, those stairs were much shorter. She tries figure out what happened, but the last thing she remembers is standing up from the couch and running out the hallway. Why doesn’t she remember anything? 

And, most importantly, why does she still feel like she’s going to throw up? Oh no-

In one big burst of effort she manages to turn herself over on one side, before it’s too late. There’s a wet, ugly splatter that can only be her stomach content hitting the floor. Her body is shaking and she’s pretty sure she’s also crying. There’s an alarm ringing, probably cause Jackie pressed the emergency button, and she’s now rubbing her back while whispering soft, calming words. Rose’s stomach feels like someone just ripped a hole in it. 

Then there’s voices, footsteps, and arms helping her to sit up. Someone holds something right under her chin, probably a sick bag. Not a second too soon. 

Finally, the vomiting comes to a stop and she’s able to breath normally. She practically falls back onto the bed, her breathing heavy. 

She’s honestly happy she can’t see herself right now. 

It’s a concussion, the nurses explains when she has the energy to listen. A pretty bad such. And her foot is broken. She didn’t even notice there was something wrong with her foot. Probably thanks to all the morphine they’ve pumped her body full off. 

Rose spends most of her time sleeping. She doesn’t even wanna think about eating anything, so the nurses have put in a drip to give her fluids and nourishment. She was moved to a regular hospital room shortly after waking up, and Jackie is allowed to sit with her in that room as long as she wants. Which is twenty-four hours a day. If she doesn’t leave when Rose is asleep, which is possible. She obviously wants to keep her daughter company, but Rose doesn’t really have the energy to have any sort of intelligent conversation. She needs all the rest she can get, since she’s often awoken from sleep by headaches. She’s only allowed so much morphine a day, so she needs to save it for when she can’t stand the pain anymore. 

 

Rose’s caller ID appears on John’s phone screen. They did exchange numbers a few weeks ago, but they’ve rarely talked on the phone. Pushing all his questions away, John answers the call.  
“Rose?” he asks, not able to hide the excitement in his voice.  
But the voice on the other side isn’t Rose’s.  
“John, it’s Jackie. I got your number from Rose’s phone, and I just thought I’d tell you she won’t be able to see you this weekend, like you guys planned. She fell down the stairs, and she’s in the hospital.”

John inhales. It’s a shaking, short breath.  
“H-how long will she be in the hospital? Can I come and visit her?”  
Jackie sighs.  
“If everything keeps going in the right direction, she’ll be going home soon. I’m sure you can see her when she’s home again.”  
“Alright. Thanks, Jackie. Tell her I said hi.”

Ending the call, John takes a deep breath. There’s a growing anxiety-lump in his chest, growing bigger and bigger by the second. Rose is okay, right? Of course she’s alright, she’s in the bloody hospital! The best place to be after an accident!

 

Rose is allowed to go home once the doctors are sure her state won’t get any worse. She is ordered to get a lot of rest, and there isn’t really anything else to do. She spends most of her time on the couch, listening to whatever’s happens to be on the telly. The headaches are getting fewer and fewer, and it’s getting easier to walk on the foot she broke. 

A few days after she’s discharged from the hospital, she gets a phone call from Martha. Her friend’s voice is really a sound for sore ears.

“Hey, girl!” Martha’s voice calls from the other end of the phone line.   
“Martha! Oh, hi! Oh, I’ve missed hearing your voice! How are things going?”  
“Things are going pretty well over here, actually. I think the big question is: how are you doing? You fell down the stairs, Rose!”  
“So I’ve been told. And hey, I’m fine. It’s better now, really better.”  
“I guess they fixed you up over there, then”, Martha giggles.   
Rose joins in on her friend’s giggles, beaming. 

The blonde is sitting on her bed, her legs crossed. She’s leaning her back against the wall, her guitar on the bed next to her. She was playing earlier, before she got Martha’s phone call. Being able to play her guitar and sing makes being stuck at home worth it, in some way. She can’t wait to get out, to do stuff. Like sing at a karaoke bar.

Or that singing competition. She had almost forgot about that.

 

John visits her about a week later. Unlike Martha he’s able to make it up the stairs to the flat, and it’s nice to have the company of someone who isn’t your mum. 

“Wow.”

Rose yelps as the voice reaches her ears, her guitar almost crashing to the floor as she flinches in suprise. It takes another moment for her brain to kick in, and for her to realize where she’s heard that familiar voice before.   
“John?”  
“Yup!”  
“Oh my god, you can’t do that!”  
John apologizes, rushing forward to help put her guitar back on her bed. Rose fumbles until her fingers bumps into his arm. Once they do she pulls him into a hug. 

“I’ve missed you”, she says, giggling a little as he nuzzles his nose into her neck.  
“Missed you too”, he says, the smile audible in his voice.  
Rose clears her throat, slowly detaching herself from their embrace.   
“What was that about?” she asks, sitting back so up she can lean her back against the wall again.  
“What was what about?”  
“You said ‘wow’. What was that about?”  
“You.”  
“Okay...”  
“No, seriously. Wow. Just, your voice. And the way you play the guitar. You’re really talented.”  
Rose blushes.  
“Oh, I think it’s all just many hours of practice. Still, it’ll raise my chances with the singing competition.”

John goes quiet. Tense. Like Rose just said something very rude. Which she obviously didn’t.   
“John…?”  
Heart racing in concern, Rose reaches forward to poke him in the arm. She can actually hear how he swallows.  
“That… Rose, that competition was yesterday.”

 

Time is a funny thing, Rose realizes. You can be sure you have absolute control of it and how much of it that has passed, but it can still turn out you weren’t in control at all. 

When she thinks it through, it still makes sense: the days in the hospital, and then some time home. But that doesn’t make it any easier. Rose hugs the pillow impossibly closer, her sobs shaking her body. 

It wasn’t this bad when John left, it was first after he was out the flat that the reality hit Rose: she’s lost her big chance, over a bloody staircase! Why? Why!? Had she just gotten home a few days earlier, everything would have worked out find. Of course it would. 

Jackie, of course, disagrees with that statement. She claims that even if Rose had been realized from the hospital earlier, she wouldn’t have had the energy to perform. As if it’s supposed to make Rose feel better. Well, it doesn’t. 

As the days go by, Rose spends the majority of her time in her room. She sits on her bed, hugging a pillow, sometimes crying. Jackie desperately tries to get her out of the flat to do stuff, but it’s not like there’s a point at anything. Not when you’ve just lost the biggest chance of your entire life. 

Then, one day, Jackie doesn’t knock. She simply enters Rose’s room, pressing something into the blonde's hand. It’s her phone, Rose realizes. She must’ve left it in the kitchen after breakfast this morning.  
“It’s for you”, Jackie informs her gently, and then she’s out again. 

Rose presses the phone to her ear.   
“Hello?”  
“Rose, it’s John. You still wanna sing in front of a live audience?”  
“Of course I do, but-”  
“Well, I might be able to arrange that.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, guys: the last chapter!

His name is Matt. Matt Smith. To make a long story short, he’s had a struggling theater for a few years now and his latest idea when it comes to solutions is a show consisting of amateurs. Basically, anyone will be able to show their skills at his stage. Like one of those talent shows on TV, but without a winner. 

When John arrives at the theater, Rose, Jackie and Martha are already there. Rose is pulling at her dress: a fluffy, glittery thing in a pastel pink color. The skirt flows out from her body and goes all the way down to the floor. It’s like someone combined pop star princess with victorian princess. And Rose doesn’t look too happy about it. 

“Rose!” John exclaims, running up to them.   
The blonde spins around, beaming.  
“John! Hi!”  
“What’s with the dress?”  
“Oh. That was Matt’s idea.”  
“Alright. Well, you look nice.”  
“I feel like a marshmallow”, Rose groans.   
“Nah, it’s great on you!” Matt suddenly exclaims. 

He seems to have appeared out of nowhere: a young man in a tweed jacket and with a colorful bowtie around his neck. He’s beaming from ear to ear.   
“The dress looks absolutely amazing on you, Rose! Trust me!”  
“It doesn’t feel amazing...”, the blonde mumbles.

Matt moves on to talk to some of the other hopeful performers, and John takes the opportunity to look around. They are standing by the wall in the backstage space. All around them are small groups of families and/or friends, all hoping that the world will recognize them for their talents as the performances are broadcasted on live TV. Just like Rose. She looks so happy, beaming as she hugs her cane to her chest. 

And her happiness makes him happy. 

Matt has already gone through the order, and Rose is one of the last few to go out on stage.   
“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. It’ll give you time to prepare yourself, you know.”  
Rose shakes her head at her mum’s comment.  
“And I’ll have plenty of time to change my mind”, she mutters.  
Martha gasps, her reaction close to horrified.

“Why would you change your mind!? Rose, you’re an amazing singer! You can’t turn back now! You- You can’t!”  
“She’s right, sweetheart. This is something you’ve always wanted to do, you know”, Jackie reminds her gently.  
“I’m pretty sure you’re gonna regret it if you decide to back out. But, then again, it is your decision”, John adds.

Rose grabs her cane tighter, taking a few long breaths. Finally, she sighs.  
“Yeah, I’ll do it”, she says.   
Jackie seems concerned.   
“You sure?”  
“I’ll do it”, Rose says.   
“You know you don’t have to-”  
“It’s fine, mum!”  
“Alright then...”

But, the truth is, it isn’t really alright. Rose’s heart is hammering in her ribcage, a ball of anxiety spinning around in her stomach. But, then again, that’s completely normal in a situation like this. Right? Something really concerning would’ve been if she wasn’t nervous right now, honestly. She’s about to go out on stage and sing in front an actual audience, of course she’s anxious! That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to do it. Right? This is something she’s wanted to do her entire life, for God’s sake! 

Rose’s train of thought is interrupted by Matt’s voice.   
“Alright everyone, listen up! It’s almost time now, so get ready! Cloe, you’re up first, remember?”  
“Oh yes!” the girl apparently named Cloe exclaims.   
Rose swallows. She wishes she had the confidence this Cloe’s voice radiates. 

Turns out, Cloe isn’t at all as great as she seems to believe. It’s not even pleasant to listen to her tone deaf interpretation of “Firework”. Rose mentally curses over the fact that someone so untalanted choose to sing none other than her favorite song of all time. If Katy Perry heard this she would most likely start crying. That thought almost makes Rose laugh out loud. Almost.

Still, Cloe gets a round of applauses. And some cheering. Based on the way her voice sounded she seems pretty young, and Rose seriously doubts anyone in that audience has the heart to boo at a little girl. Even if she was pretty terrible.

Fortunatly, the next act isn’t that bad at all. It’s a guy this time, and his voice is actually a good one. The Doctor is standing next to Rose, peering out onto the stage and describing the guy’s outfit to her:  
“He looks pretty good, if you ask me. Dark blue jeans jacket, checkered shirt and tight jeans. Oh, and his hair is blue.”  
“Blue? Wait, like, the color blue?”  
“That’s the one!”

Rose giggles. She doesn’t know much about colors, most likely cause she’s never seen a color. She’s had colors described to her, of course, but she knows those descriptions will never compare to seeing the colors themselves. Still, she understands that some colors aren’t natural hair colors. Blue being one of them. She doesn’t think she’ll ever understand why people can pay a lot of money just to change something like their hair color. Still, she’s not gonna judge anyone. 

Rose turns her attention back to the singing guy’s voice. He’s a good singer, actually. Better than that Cloe, no doubt about it. And maybe even better than Rose. 

As time goes by and singers comes and goes from the stage, the competition rises. All though, there isn’t really any competition. They all sing for themselves. And for Matt’s right to keep his theater in business, probably. Rose didn’t understand much of it, but it seems like, if the singers performing are good enough, Matt will get the money he needs to re-open his theater. It was something about still believing in the talent of the public. 

“Okay, Rose. It’s almost your turn now. You ready?”  
As Matt’s voice reaches Rose’s ears, the anxiety ball in the blonde’s stomach reminds her of its presence. She bites her bottom lip. Has all that time really gone by already? She was among the last ones, after all. It can’t be her turn already? Right? She needs more time! To.. Prepare… Yes, she needs to prepare some more! For example, she needs to figure out how to move in this dress without tripping over the very fluffy (and long) fabric. She swears she can hear the sound of the dress scraping across the floor as she walks. Or maybe that’s just her brain coming up with as many reasons as she can why wearing this dress is a bad idea. Cause apparently the fact that she doesn’t feel comfortable in it isn’t enough for Matt. One touch of her fingertips to the fabric was enough to tell her that it was way to glittery and princess-y for her, but Matt just kept insisting she would change her mind if she could see how she looked in it. Which was a more than a little offensive comment. 

Still, and fortunately for Matt, Rose is way too nervous to call him out on any sort of offensive comment he might have made about her disability. She decides to just nod in the general direction of the man’s voice, forcing a small smile.  
“Awesome”, she says, voice flat.  
Matt moves on, his footsteps getting further and further away. Rose lets out the breath she didn’t even know she was holding in, suddenly aware of how her heart is hammering in her rib cage. This can’t be good, she thinks for herself. 

A hand lands on Rose’s shoulder. Jackie, the blonde realizes. Her mum’s been so quiet for the last few minutes Rose barely remembered she’s even there. as horrible as that might sound.   
“Okay, sweetheart?”  
The question is meant to be uplifting, to spark confidence, but it honestly only makes Rose feel worse. The anxiety ball in her stomach is now swelling, screaming for her to notice it and pay attention to it. It keeps screaming and swelling until it suddenly bursts open, releasing flow of panic into every corner of her insides. 

Suddenly struggling to breath, Rose falls to the floor as her legs decides they aren’t going to support her weight anymore. She ends up on her knees, palms pressed down against the floor. Her ears are filled of distressed voices, yelling things she can’t make out. Possibly her name. Someone wraps their arms around her from behind, pulling her up into sitting position. Her back ends up pressed against the person’s chest, and something inside her tells her John’s the one holding her. His chest feels the same way it did that day for so many weeks ago, when he held her and comforted her as she cried over her anger and regret towards her total douchebag of an ex. 

Finally getting enough air into her lounges, Rose lets out a sob loud enough to shake her entire body.

 

“I’ve failed you.”

None of the three people sitting in front of her really knows who Rose is talking to. All of them, maybe. Despite that possibility, John’s heart seems to absorb her words like a sponge, until it feels like it’s about to burst from nothing but pure guilt. He looks around for something to take his soul-crushing emotions out on. There’s a few pillows in the corner, those might work…

“You did not fail us, Rose. It’s the opposite, actually. You set your mind to it, despite being absolutely terrified, and in the end you couldn’t do it. But that’s okay. Hell, it’s more than okay! As a mother, I can’t be anything but proud. And I just hope you can see that.”  
Jackie finishes her little speech by leaning forward and taking her daughter’s hand. Rose uses the back of her free hand to dry the tears that’s still running down her cheeks, a small sob escaping past her lips. At least, her mum’s comment makes her smile a little. 

“Yeah, I guess. Still, I think I ruined the dress.”  
“Screw the dress!” John exclaims.  
“Yeah, screw the dress! It’s not like you liked it, anyway! It was Matt who wanted you to wear it, not you. Remember?” Martha says.  
Rose inhales deeply, swallowing.  
“Thank you”, is all she can choke out.

The four of them leaves the theater in silence, a deep sadness hanging in the air around them.

 

John is absolutely sure his heart is going to burst. Not of guilt, though, which is the emotion that’s been tormenting him the last few weeks. No, this time it’s pride. Pride of the girl now walking across the stage with the help of her mother, standing behind the microphone. 

The bar is small, and the light is dimmed. Still, he can make out Rose’s outfit without a problem: the blonde is wearing the checkered dress, the one they saw when they were out shopping. The black belt has been removed, allowing the dress to flow freely around her body instead of being held still close to her waist. The dress has also been cut up, so it now ends above her knees instead of at her ankles. This has resulted in the bottom of the dress now being all jagged and frilly, which actually looks really cool. The black tights and the short, black leather jacket she’s also wearing is a perfect contrast to the dress’ color combination: red, black and white. The black and white electric guitar hanging in a leather strap around her shoulder completes the rockstar-look Martha has been trying to make her achieve. 

The small crowd of people now turns their attention to the stage, to Rose. The blonde grabs the microphone stand with both her hands, Exhaling. Inhaling. Exhaling. Inhaling. 

Then, she starts stomping her foot.

The small audience doesn’t pay much attention to her at first, probably too caught up in their own stuff. Then they start clapping, one by one, to the rhythm of the stomping of Rose’s foot. More and more, until the entire bar is filled with the sound of clapping hands. When everyone there is clapping, Rose starts singing.

Her beautiful voice fills the bar, making John all warm and fuzzy and happy and proud. Yes, he’s sure his heart is going to burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let's talk about the ending: i've actually had several different endings in mind, but i went throught with this one. Don't know why, really.... i think i might want to show you guys that you can have your dreams comes true, but it doesn't havt to be the way you imagined... anyway: thanks for reading this story! I really had fun writing it! x


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